Three Little Words
by ilovecastiel18
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have been an official couple for a few years now, yet Crowley has not been able to say the three little words. One morning, as the sun rises, he finds the courage to say them. Established relationship. Romance, mild angst, SO MUCH FLUFF. Un-beta-ed. One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: **Good Omens, along with its characters, locations, etc. are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. If I owned the rights to it, I wouldn't still be desperate to meet the man that I absolutely ADORE: David Tennant.

**Summary: **Crowley and Aziraphale have been an official couple for a few years now, yet Crowley has not been able to say the three little words. One morning, as the sun rises, he finds the courage to say them. Established relationship. Romance, mild angst, SO MUCH FLUFF. Un-beta-ed. One-Shot.

**A/N: **Guys, I'm literally stressing so hard right now. With my classes and my job and pledging to a co-ed criminal justice fraternity (which is basically like having another class) I literally have no time to eat or sleep. I'm only writing this because I have no self-control, I should be studying for a test that I have Thursday that I know nothing about. I'm having panic attacks _literally _every day but it's fine! I don't want to die or anything (that's a lie). Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

….

Three Little Words

….

Crowley hated himself. Of course, he had always hated himself, but this particular thought, on this particular morning, was for a specific reason.

Crowley and Aziraphale had been officially dating for three years now, and Crowley had yet to work up the courage to tell the angel that he loved him. Crowley beat himself up about it daily, because _of course _he loved Aziraphale, he had loved the blasted idiot since they met in the Garden of Eden. He had wanted to tell Aziraphale that he loved him for _so long, _but as soon as he could actually say it without the words being rejected, his tongue tied up and his throat closed and he couldn't make any sort of noise other than an undignified grunt.

Crowley also hated himself because Aziraphale constantly told him that he loved him. In the morning when they would wake up from a long snooze, over afternoon tea, when they would be cuddling on the sofa in the backroom of the bookshop. Not a day went by where Aziraphale didn't say he loved Crowley _at least _four times, and yet Crowley hadn't been able to say it once in the three years they had been dating, despite the six millennia when he had been secretly in love with the angel.

Crowley loved Aziraphale with every inch of his damned soul,_ so why couldn't he say the three little words?_

Crowley blamed his issues on the fact that he was a demon. He had been cast out of heaven, shunned by his former brothers and sisters, made a fool out of by Hell and all it's cronies. He had been forced to lose faith in love, to hate any being with the capacity for goodness. Then, a certain angel showed him that he had a capacity for goodness, and love, and Crowley had been struggling with that realization ever since.

It wasn't like he hadn't had time to come to terms with the change. He's had six thousand years to realize that he could be good, and _dear God-Satan _he could love, oh he could love, but his mouth wouldn't form the words that he was so desperate to say.

He also hated that it genuinely upset Aziraphale every time his voice betrayed him. At first, Aziraphale had been understanding, but after a year… after two… Every time Aziraphale said he loved Crowley and Crowley couldn't say it back, he would give a little huff and a frown, trying and failing to hide it from Crowley. And Crowley kicked himself every time it happened.

Aziraphale was deserving of all the love in the entire universe, at least ten times over, and yet Crowley couldn't give him the one thing he wanted.

These thoughts bothered Crowley so much that he was actually having a hard time sleeping, which was genuinely his favorite activity (besides spending time with Aziraphale). He would often toss and turn for hours just to wake up before the sun rose. He spent these stolen moments watching Aziraphale, listening to his quiet snores and watching his chest move with each breath.

Aziraphale had taken to sleeping in linen pajama bottoms (tartan patterned, obviously) and a thin t-shirt, which meant that Crowley could watch every wrinkle in the shirt move as Aziraphale breathed. Which was something that Crowley enjoyed immensely.

Today was a Sunday, which usually meant that Crowley would attempt to sleep in until at least noon. Today, however, his nightmares and thoughts of hurting Aziraphale woke him just as the sun was about to rise, so he busied himself with studying the love of his life.

And oh, Aziraphale was gorgeous. The way his hair glistened, mussed by the angel's pillow, but still fluffy and golden. The way his shirt stretched across his round stomach and chest, how the blankets pooled around his waist because he always got hot in his sleep. The way the pillowcase billowed when Aziraphale would let out a snore, or how his eyebrows would scrunch up when he was about to flip over.

Crowley was hopelessly in love with Aziraphale. There was no denying that fact.

Crowley had just come to this conclusion (for about the millionth time since he had met Aziraphale) when the angel stirred, cracking his eyes open and rubbing at them. Crowley couldn't help but run a hand through Aziraphale's messy hair, causing the angel to gently reach out his arms for Crowley, using a small miracle to open the blinds so they could watch the sun rise.

Crowley bent down and curled up against Aziraphale, resting his head against his shoulder and wrapping an arm around the angel's broad stomach. Aziraphale bent his arm and idly started running his hand through Crowley's hair, placing the other hand under his head.

"Is something bothering you, Crowley? You've been waking up early almost every morning." Aziraphale asked quietly.

"S'nothing, angel." Crowley muttered into his chest.

"Well, I hope you know you can talk to me, dear. About anything. I will always be here for you, my love." Aziraphale replied, snuggling closer to the demon and causing Crowley's eyes to moisten.

They sat in silence for a while, Crowley silently contemplating his life choices while Aziraphale played with his hair and hummed absently.

"Angel?" Crowley finally blurted out, making up his mind.

"Yes, dear?" Aziraphale hummed quietly.

"I love you." Crowley choked out.

The hand in his hair stilled for a moment, the arm tightening around him briefly before Aziraphale relaxed and started running his fingers through bright red hair again.

"I love you too, Crowley." He replied quietly, clearly trying to hide the abundance of emotion in his voice.

"I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say it, Aziraphale. It's… complicated. But I mean it. I've loved you for so long, angel, I can't put it into words. But I love you."

Aziraphale silently pulled him closer, letting silence wash over them for a few moments before speaking again, his voice tight. "I understand, dear. You don't have to apologize to me."

"But I do, angel! You've been waiting for me to say it for so long, and you're hurt every time I don't! I've tried so hard, Aziraphale, it's been so heartbreaking. I haven't been sleeping because I've been so bothered by the fact that I've been hurting you by not saying the words. But I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you! I'll say it a million more times if that means that I'll never hurt you again." Crowley argued back, rolling Aziraphale onto his side and pulling him closer so the angel could bury his face in his long neck. Crowley felt tears wet his neck and had to use his powers to stop himself from crying.

"You could never hurt me, Crowley. I've hurt you so many times… I was upset that you never said it back, but it is nothing compared to what I have done to you. Of course I forgive you, Crowley. I love you more than words could express." Aziraphale choked out, still crying into Crowley's shoulder. "You are everything to me, Crowley."

"Aziraphale, I can't even begin to express to you how much you mean to me. I have loved you since we met in the Garden of Eden. You have proven to me, time and time again, that I have a capacity for good. I'm not like all the other demons, I can do good things, I can love, I can be happy. You make me happier than anything else in the universe, angel. I love you with every bit of my soul. You don't have to apologize to me because I have forgiven you over and over again. I would do anything to make you happy. I created entire galaxies when I was an angel, ad you are still the loveliest, sweetest, most gorgeous thing that I have ever laid my eyes on, ever cared about. You are everything to me as well, Aziraphale. And I love you more than anything. I sincerely hope you know that." 

This just made Aziraphale cry harder, curling up into Crowley's chest and practically sobbing. Crowley calmly stroked the angel's back, lightly kissing his hair and whispering soothing words in his ear.

When Aziraphale calmed down enough to be able to pull away, he rolled back over to watch the sun rise over London, pulling Crowley toward him so they could resume their position from before, with Crowley curled up against Aziraphale's side and Aziraphale calmly playing with his hair.

"I love you, Crowley." Aziraphale whispered, as the sun finally broke and the horizon shimmered. He gently pulled Crowley closer and kissed him, lingering so Crowley could feel the all-encompassing love the angel felt for him. Crowley felt tears wet his eyes as he pulled away from the gentle kiss.

"I love you too, Aziraphale."


End file.
